


Swallow You Whole

by an_aphorism



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blow Jobs, Getting Together, M/M, Oral Fixation, Shiro pining, Soft filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 11:17:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18093293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_aphorism/pseuds/an_aphorism
Summary: When Keith nibbles at his lip with said canine at their next meeting, Shiro almost chokes mid-lecture. He’s been moving toward a frightening idea that the boy he took under his wing at the Garrison is no longer a boy. That the affection Shiro has always felt for him has long been blossoming into something more complicated. Hotter.That he cannot look at Keith sucking on whatever object he has around and not think of Keith sucking—





	Swallow You Whole

**Author's Note:**

> if you’re on the oral fixation tag, this IS the fic you’re looking for..

It wasn’t something that Shiro immediately noticed. A lot of people chew their pens, bite their nails, snack in the boring parts of class.

Maybe he thought it was a little different that Keith liked lollipops when most people went for gum, but Keith was a little different everywhere.

Not bad different, he just stood out. It’s why Shiro took notice in the first place.

It’s not until they’re on the castleship that something begins to itch in the back of Shiro’s brain. In team building exercises he catches Keith with a toothpick, a hard candy, the end of the tablet pen in his mouth. The later mostly skims across his lips absently as Pidge lectures on the new security protocols.

It’s kind of mesmerizing to watch, the pen so smooth and white against the pink of his mouth. Shiro doesn’t know why, but he keeps finding reasons to let his gaze drift over.

A month, two months later (time is hard to track in space), Shiro finds himself in the kitchen late one night. It’s after a day of drills in which Hunk had treated them all to the space equivalent of chicken wings, piles and piles of chicken wings.

After a hot shower and an hour of messing around on his data pad, Shiro thinks about the leftover wings. They need to be eaten by somebody.

So now he’s hunkered down sitting on the kitchen counter, picking wing after wing out of the pan and then tossing the bones into the trash on his other side. It’s quiet, the lights dim because everyone else on the ship is asleep. It’s nearly perfect.

Then Keith walks in.

He’s dressed down in sleepwear, just a tank and some leggings, hair a little messy. There’s a pink crease on one of his cheeks from a pillow.

“Hey,” he says, rounding the counter toward Shiro.

“Hey, couldn’t sleep?”

Keith smiles and then hops up on the counter, the plate of wings between them. “Could, but my stomach woke me up and I remembered there were leftovers.”

Shiro laughs quietly. “Same, have at it,” he nudges the tray.

“Mm,” Keith says, plucking one of them out. “Hunk really outdid himself.”

Shiro watches him stick the wing in his mouth and then pull out, shearing the meat off cleanly. The sauce makes a little of a mess, which Keith carefully licks away.

Shiro drops his eyes back down to the wings.

They work through the leftovers in silence. Keith kicks his legs idly again the cabinets and makes a proper mess of himself. Shiro looks enough that eventually Keith catches him at it.

“What?” He tosses the clean bone over Shiro and into the trash.

Shiro feels hot on the back of his neck. “Nothing, you’ve just got,” he motions to his own cheek where Keith has smeared some orange glaze.

Keith reaches for it, but his fingers are still dirty, and he only makes it worse. “Whoops,” he laughs at himself and sticks his fingers in his mouth to clean them.

The sound is loud, much more present than the sounds of their eating. Shiro tries not to, but he ends up watching Keith dip each finger into his mouth and suck them clean. When he’s finished, his clean fingers scoop the sauce off his cheek and put it into his mouth.

Shiro stumbles down off the counter. “Well, uh, I better be going to bed then.” The pan of wings is almost empty, but he couldn’t care less about the food anymore. He has an intense need to be anywhere other than here.

Keith looks for a moment confused, eyebrows coming together, pink lips partly open.

Shiro tears himself from the sight and rushes from the room.

 

#

 

It’s near inescapable after that. After Keith finds out he’s Galra, Shiro catches him fingering his canines lost in thought. They’ve always been particularly sharp and noticeable in his mouth, but now there’s a reason for it. Galra genes.

When Keith nibbles at his lip with said canine at their next meeting, Shiro almost chokes mid-lecture. He’s been moving toward a frightening idea that the boy he took under his wing at the Garrison is no longer a boy. That the affection Shiro has always felt for him has long been blossoming into something more complicated. Hotter.

That he cannot look at Keith sucking on whatever object he has around and not think of Keith sucking—

It’s a problem.

A problem made worse by just how much he now sees it. Keith’s fixated, obsessed. He has always met stress with aggression on the mat and in battle, has always used his body to get those feelings out. He has for as long as Shiro has known him.

So it makes sense that when Keith is looking for comfort, for stress relief, that it would come out physically as well. Orally.

That doesn’t mean it’s not a huge problem for Shiro. Becoming bigger every day.

And worse by night.

 

#

 

The dreams start innocently enough. Like memories. Keith flicking a pen against his teeth, rolling a lollipop across his tongue.

Shiro wakes up from them feeling jittery and a little warm, but it’s nothing a cold shower and some push-ups can’t cure. Nothing he can’t shove back into his subconscious and ignore.

But then he walks into the trailing room to see Keith on his knees trying to fend off a sparring bot. It’s been obviously modded to give Keith more of a challenge, and by the way he’s gasping with his sword pressed up to defend himself, it is. Shiro watches, and doesn’t think too much of it.

Until that night when the memory and the sounds transform into something else altogether. Keith on his knees between Shiro’s thighs, mouth agape.

“Shiro,” he pants, pawing at the fabric of Shiro’s uniform. “Please.”

Shiro swallows, looks down into those beautiful dark eyes. There’s something white and sticky on Keith’s fingers, he smears it around his lips and dips it down into the heat of his mouth.

“What?” Shiro says. He’s so hard, so hot. Seeing Keith there on his knees is almost too good to be true.

“I need it,” Keith whines. He licks his fingers. It’s obscene how much fluid is dripping from his mouth, his hands.

“What do you need?” Shiro’s hands are on the arms of the chair, he can’t take his eyes off the man in front of him.

A finger traces Keith’s lips, slips into his mouth and then back out, smearing saliva and—

“Your cock. Please, I want it. I’m so empty. Wanna suck—" more fingers in his mouth to mime the action.

Then Shiro is naked, his cock in hand. It drips long strings of fluid and Keith is leaning in, eyes closed and mouth open. He looks hungry, yearning. Shiro is going to give his baby what he needs, feed his heavy cock into that tight space. Let Keith spend his time sucking on something a little better than a pen.

Just as the head of his cock is sliding over those soft, cherry red lips, Shiro wakes up in his bed.

He can barely get two strokes on his dick before he’s coming hard, striping his chest and belly, toes curling from pleasure. The dream is still so close he can practically feel the heat from Keith’s mouth.

When he comes down he just lies there in bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Fuck.”

 

#

 

It comes to a head after everything with the clone facility, Shiro’s second (or third?) lease on life. They still have the business with Honerva to take care of, but for now everything is good. Great.

Even if the stress of getting there was almost crushing.

They’re taking a proverbial break as they head toward Earth. Everyone needs it, even if no one says it directly. Humans can only be under that amount of stress for short periods of time before their minds or bodies just break down, Shiro knows this from all his Garrison training. So they’re on vacation as they begin the journey to Earth. No meetings, no training, and every day Hunk produces spectacular meals that remind them of home.

One evening after Krolia has gone to see Coran in the blue lion, Shiro and Keith curl up on the couch with snacks and a movie on the datapad.

They’ve propped the datapad on the table, and it’s not the biggest screen, but neither of them wanted to deal with holoscreens or other Altean tech. This way reminds Shiro of nights at the Garrison, watching cat videos and old TV shows on Shiro’s laptop. It’s cozy.

Between them is a bowl of something like chips bred with popcorn, specially requested for just the occasion. It’s salty and crunchy and just what Shiro needs.

With the lights turned low and a film they’ve both seen before, Shiro feels lazy. Relaxed. He expects that before the third act he will start to drift to sleep right where he’s seated. It was a common occurrence at the Garrison, waking up to find his neck a little cramped but Keith curled up snoozing at his side.

He’s not ashamed to admit to himself that he’s hoping this is one of those occasions. The idea that once just made him feel warm all over now brings him butterflies. He wants Keith tucked under his arm, snoring softly into Shiro’s chest, not a care in the universe.

Ten minutes later movement from the corner of his eye draws Shiro’s attention from the screen. He turns his head just ever so slightly to get a better view.

Keith, fingers in mouth, sucking them clean.

It pairs well with the latest reoccurring dream. The one he keeps waking up to, aching and too turned on to do anything other than get a fist around himself. He shouldn’t, tells himself that every time, but he’s just too weak. War takes everything he has, he can’t guard himself against those violet eyes, cheekbones, and pink lips.

Shiro tries to ignore it now though. On the screen something blows up, the heroes attempt their first daring escape.

Keith has his pointer finger up to his second knuckle in his mouth.

It’s not quick and purposeful like with the wings. In fact, Shiro would hazard to guess that he’s not even aware he’s doing it.

Shiro would hazard a guess that with the slow, soft way Keith is sucking at his fingers, that maybe he just likes that. Sucking.

On fingers.

_Sweet void._

It’s one thing to have a dirty dream in which you imagine your crush is into the thing you’re into, and another thing entirely to see it play out in front of you.

Shiro just has to not think about it. It’s fine. A little different, but nothing given how weird the rest of their lives are. Some people have oral fixations, some people like to—

Keith’s finger pops out of his mouth to rest against his lips. On the screen the heroes are almost caught, racing against time and luck to get away. It’s tense and Keith is riveted.

His fingers trace his lips, barely moving. Shiro doesn’t mean to turn his head more, but he has to see. Has to know how Keith touches himself. Has to know if it’s just how he’s been imagining every night.

Keith’s mouth is just slightly parted, fingers perched as if covering his mouth in surprise. They make micro-movements, just tiny skitters of sensation. A nail tracing the pink edge.

Shiro doesn’t breathe, doesn’t even remember he’s staring until the scene quiets on the screen and Keith sighs. He notices Shiro’s attention.

“What?” His hand is pulled away, brows coming together in confusion. “Something on my face?”

Shiro can feel the blush hit him all at once. “Uh, no, no.” He’s not good at lying or particularly quick on his feet. “Uh,” he’s about a second from blurting the truth, and it’s humiliating.

“What?”

“You just, you touch your mouth. A lot.” He laughs from nerves, and then cringes at how that could be interpreted. “I mean it’s fine. I mean it’s just me, being weird. Noticing. Uh. Just, maybe we can go back to the movie and forget I said anything?”

Everything is coming out a fumbling mess. This is why Shiro never does anything about crushes or feelings. He’s awful at relationships.

He grabs the back of his own neck in embarrassment, eyes down on the bucket of snacks so he doesn’t have to see whatever Keith’s expression is.

“Um, okay,” Keith says after an agonizing bit of silence. His tone tells Shiro nothing.

They both turn back to the screen.

But now everything is weird and stilted. Twice Keith’s hands twitch but resettle on his lap, twice Shiro’s eyes flicker that way, as if eager to catch them in the act.

He never should have said anything.

The fourth time fifteen minutes later causes Keith to groan. “Okay, yeah I touch my mouth a lot I guess. I didn’t really notice but now I can’t stop thinking about it.”  

“I’m sorry!” Shiro says, guilt bleeding across his face.

“No, it’s fine, I guess it is kinda weird.” This time Shiro turns to see Keith frowning, fingers fiddling in his lap.

“No!” Shiro leans forward, putting a hand over Keith’s. The absolute last thing he wants is for Keith to feel bad. There’s nothing _wrong_ with him, Shiro is the fixated idiot. He says all of this to Keith quick, as if by throwing his own pride under the bus he can get that troubled look off of Keith’s face.

And it works, somewhat. His expression lifts into something more thoughtful. “Fixated?”

And fucking hell, if Shiro hasn’t dug his own grave already. But there’s nothing else for it. He won’t let Keith feel ashamed of his natural inclinations.

“Yeah it’s just— uh. You see, I’ve um, been noticing. Like I said. But it’s not bad. Like you, you’re perfect Keith. It’s me who’s—"

“Oh.” Keith says, interrupting. It’s fine, Shiro wasn’t going anywhere very fast. Shiro watches as Keith’s cheeks pink. “Are you…?”

“Am I?”

Keith’s eyes flicker down and then back up, looking at Shiro through his lashes. It’s… affecting. There’s a sudden shortage of breathable air.

Keith licks his lips, slow, and Shiro can’t help the way his eyes follow.

“Do you like it?”

Shiro sees the words form, but they get jumbled on the way to his brain. It can’t— he isn’t—

But there’s a smirk taking root on Keith’s face now. Just the slightest, most attractive curl to the edges of his mouth.

What was the question again?

 _“Oh_.” Keith says.

“Yeah,” Shiro says at the same time.

Keith double blinks. “Oh,” he says again, the tip of his canine catching on one side.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

Shiro casts his eyes to the screen. Something is happening between the two mains, but he cannot for the life of him focus on it. He just needs to not be staring at Keith. “Yeah, I didn’t want to make it weird. And then I made it super weird.”

He fails not looking the second that Keith laughs. It’s just such a beautiful sound, a beautiful shape his whole face takes.

Keith dips his head but leans in to Shiro, forehead pressed into Shiro’s shoulder. “You’re such a ridiculous man.”

It’s slightly muffled, almost shy. It’s not how Shiro saw this going.

Not that he ever thought he’d be clueing Keith into his fixation, but if he had imagined that far out, it would have included a lot more anger and cursing.

Instead he holds completely still, unsure of what to do, what to say.

“I’ve got to say though,” Keith continues after a few seconds of silence, “this is by far the strangest way I’ve ever been propositioned.”

It’s not the focal point of the statement, but Shiro immediately thinks, _who else has been propositioning you? And when? And where? And who????_  

Focus.

“I wasn’t.” He says. Keith lifts his head and gives him a dry look. “I mean it wasn’t my intent. I wasn’t trying to—“

“Weren’t you?” Now Keith tips his jaw up, so close Shiro can feel the exhale. “You don’t have to be so honorable Shiro, not with me.”

“Keith,” it falls like a plea, but without direction.

“I told you once that I loved you, did you forget?”

“No.” Shiro swallows hard, shifts closer thoughtlessly. He would never, could never forget that. He just hadn’t thought Keith had meant it _like that_. Hadn’t dared to imagine it.

Keith’s fingers come up to his jaw, slide carefully back toward his ear. He’s so close now and the air is hot and thick. The nerves all along the trail Keith’s fingers took sizzle like electricity. “Then tell me what it is you’re so fixated on, Shiro? What is it that you want?”

Keith’s lips part as in offering. They’re pink and lovely to the dark smudge of his hooded eyes. Shiro wants. He’s never wanted anything more.

“You,” Shiro says, and then closes the space between them.

The snack bowl goes… somewhere, and really who cares because a second later Keith is climbing up into his lap, kissing him just as desperately. They come together like an implosion or electromagnets, some kind of inevitable force.

Shiro grabs at Keith and Keith grabs at him and their tongues meet, slide, flick. It’s hot, so hot, and salty like the popcorn, like sweat. Shiro makes a sound he can’t help and dips his tongue back into Keith’s mouth.

Keith copies his sound back, grazes him with those sharp teeth. His cock throbs with it, and he pushes his hips into Keith’s.

His hands are everywhere, mapping down Keith’s slender sides, grabbing at his ass when Keith grinds back down into him. He swears when their lips part for breath and then dives back in.

They move clumsily. There’s too much clothing between them, but Shiro finds it hard to care. His hands slide back up to feel the curve of Keith’s spine, tracing the elegant line up and back down.

He kisses Keith’s mouth off-center where Shiro remembers that smear of sauce, nibbles at his bottom lip where Keith usually rests his pen or lollipop. He can’t believe after looking for so long he finally gets to taste.

“So it’s a yes to liking it?” Keith says when he finally pulls back. He accents the question by licking at his swollen bottom lip.

Shiro sighs helplessly. “Yeah.”

Keith kisses his cheek, a sliver of a smile on his face. “I’ve seen you looking at me in meetings, just couldn’t figure out what it was about.”

Shiro blushes hot, impressive just because Keith is still pressed to his cock, diverting what feels like most of his blood. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You’ve said,” Keith says this into his ear, having leaned in to trail kisses across his jaw. “But what I want to know is how long?”

It’s hard for Shiro to concentrate then as Keith starts moving again on his lap, a gentle rock that is more teasing than anything. His hands tighten on Keith’s hips, but he’s caught between stopping the man and encouraging him.

“H-how long?” He asks when Keith nips at his earlobe. It’s a gorgeous sensation, and his hips press up to meet Keith’s next slide. He’s burning up, so hard he desperately needs to get his pants off.

“How long have you been _watching me?_ ”

Shiro casts his mind back the best he can in the moment. The only answer he comes up with is, frankly, embarrassing.

Keith must feel how his body stiffens, because all of a sudden teeth are biting down through the fabric of his shirt right at the juncture of his throat and shoulder. Shiro gasps at the pain and then released as the bite does.

“ _Shiro,”_ Keith croons.

“Since the simulator,” he hides his face in Keith’s neck so he doesn’t have to make eye contact. “Not like _this,”_ he squeezes at Keith’s hips, “but the moment I saw you in that simulator, outflying every other kid, I just—“ he remembers what came next and huffs out a laugh. “I took my eyes off you for a second to talk to your teacher, and you stole my car.”

Keith noses at Shiro’s collar. “Sorry about that.”

“No, I learned then to never take my eyes off you.”

“Because I’m a _disciplinary case_?”

“No,” Shiro kisses a freckle on Keith’s neck. “Because you’re amazing, because I never have any idea what you’re going to do next, but if I’m not paying attention I’m going to miss it. I don’t want to miss anything else.”

Keith stills, sits back to look Shiro in the eye. They’re bright violet, a touch Galran. There’s a sheen of would-be tears.

“You ridiculous man,” Keith sniffs, his smile soft.

“Yeah,” Shiro kisses him gently, cupping Keith’s face. “But just for you.”

And Keith opens to him. Kisses him softly over and over again. Before long they are sliding back into a heated, careful grind. Keith pulls at him like he can’t get enough, like he’s trying to fuse his body with Shiro’s.

It’s better than the dreams, better than anything Shiro had fantasized about on the hazy edges of sleep. Keith is heavy and solid in his lap, moving them slowly, deliciously. His tongue is in Shiro’s mouth, tracing his own, glancing across his teeth.

When they run out of breath Keith pulls back just a hair and their eyes meet. They’re fierce, the same eyes Shiro has followed over the horizon and into hell. The same eyes he would do it all over again for.

“Okay then,” Keith says, and disappears off his lap. It’s a graceful move somehow, but it leaves Shiro with whiplash.

Then Keith drops to his knees between Shiro’s thighs, and Shiro—

 _“Keith,”_ his hands settle on Keith’s shoulders, uncertain. He’s had way too many dreams about this, and his cock _aches_ as if Pavlovian trained _._

Keith tilts his head left to rub his cheek against Shiro’s metal forearm. His eyelashes flutter and then he looks back up at Shiro.

“Don’t take your eyes off me,” Keith says.

“Never,” Shiro swears. He swallows hard as Keith’s fingers pluck at the button to his jeans. Thinks he should protest or offer to blow Keith instead, anything but just sit there flabbergasted. Is it wrong to just let this happen? Is it too one-sided? Does Keith feel like he has to—

“Hey,” Keith rubs the line of his cock in his pants. “Get out of that head of yours.” One hand reaches for Shiro’s human hand and places it on Keith’s head. “Be here, with me.”

Keith’s unzipping his fly, eyes heated and fingers tracing the shape of Shiro’s cock. Shiro would literally give this man anything he asked for. Anything in the whole universe.

“I’m here,” Shiro chokes out.

There’s a wicked smile on Keith’s mouth, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s devastating. “Good,” He says and pulls Shiro’s cock out of his pants. “Now watch.”

Shiro doesn’t blink, can hardly breathe. He’s hot and messy in Keith’s hand, the tip smeared in precome with how worked up he is. Keith leans up, eyes flicking off Shiro’s face just to take in the cock he holds in his hand.

Keith curses to himself and then tilts the tip toward his mouth. Shiro wants to close his eyes, wants to get up and flee from the electricity and anticipation bubbling in his skin. This cannot be real, cannot possibly be real life.

But somehow it is. Keith’s reddened lips part just an inch from his cock, slick from how he licks them, slick from all their kissing.

Shiro whines at the thought that they will soon be slick from his come.

A finger first grazes up his length, scooping wetness as it goes, and Shiro’s so hot for it his cock blurts a little more at the tip. Keith scoops that up too. Lifts his finger away and then takes it to his mouth.

His eyes are on Shiro as he paints his lips like he would with chapstick before the digit finds its way into his mouth. The slick noise as he sucks his finger clean makes Shiro woozy.

“Tastes good,” Keith says when he reaches back to take a hold of Shiro’s cock.

 _“Baby,”_ Shiro shivers, his hips jerk up uncontrollably. _“Baby please_.”

Keith hums in acknowledgment, cheeks flushed and eyes alight. He tilts Shiro’s cock back down and then suddenly it’s _right there_ on the gorgeous pillow of Keith’s lips.

Keith’s tongue dips down to taste his slit and Shiro thinks he’s going to die. It feels amazing. His human hand tightens in Keith’s hair and then loosens as he becomes aware of it.

“You can pull,” Keith says, muffled a little by the head of Shiro’s cock. His lips just barely touching the head of his cock is a tease and Shiro has never been more turned on. “I like it.”

Before that statement can really get into his head, Keith slides his mouth down on Shiro’s cock.

Shiro makes a punched-out sound and grabs at Keith’s hair. He swears once, twice, tries to breathe. He struggles with everything but keeping his eyes on Keith. There’s no place he’d rather be looking.

Keith, who’s lips are stretched tight around his girth, violet eyes locked on his. He’s beautiful and amazing and so fucking hot Shiro has to pull out every one of his mental tricks not to come immediately.

He wants it to last, needs it to last. This is one of his _highest quiznaking fantasies_ , he can’t just immediately blow it.

There’s amusement in Keith’s eyes when he pulls back and immediately swallows Shiro back down. Shiro is as bare as he’s ever been, and he knows Keith can read his every pant and tensing muscle. He’s a force like this, confident in his skill and seduction, leading Shiro as elegantly as he does everywhere else.

The next time Keith goes down its deeper, nose almost to Shiro’s pelvis. He pauses there and his eyes water but they’re sharp and knowing. Shiro moans.

“Keith, Jesus Christ. How are you— and I’m gonna— _fuck fuck fuck—“_

The edge springs up in front of him without warning, but Keith’s fingers clamp around his base, stopping it in its tracks. The build of it is still there, the arousal heady and drowning, but as Keith continues to suck him, he can’t get over the edge.

It’s not a trick Shiro is familiar with on a personal basis, but he’s heard of it. Experiencing it now is—

“Please,” his voice doesn’t even sound like his, grated and throaty. “Keith please,” he’s so turned on he feels like the orgasm will just end him and he wants it _so bad._ “It’s so good, you feel so good.” Keith hums on the next down and Shiro feels it in his spine, in his finger tips. “And that mouth, fuck. I didn’t mean to stare,” and he’s just babbling now, focused only on those eyes, on those lips. “You just— I wanted to taste them, touch them. Wanted to take that pen out of your mouth and replace it with my tongue, my co—“

Keith hums louder and then pulls back to tongue at his frenulum, to run the purpling head of Shiro’s cock across his lips, smearing precome and saliva on his cheeks. He practically nuzzles his face against it and all Shiro can do it whine and leak and curse.

Keith blows cool air on him, cruelly. His cock jerks with sensitivity and all he can do is stare at Keith’s swollen lips. He needs his cock to be back between them. Needs that warmth and wetness enveloping him. Needs to come.

“Oh yeah?” Keith’s voice is wrecked, and Shiro finds it too hot to be ashamed that he said the previous thoughts aloud.

“God baby please, you’re killing me. It’s so much better than—“ Shiro cuts himself off, but Keith pauses with his cock just at his lips, an eyebrow raised as if to say, _go on._

“I had these dreams. And you—“ Keith swallows down his cock again, and he keens, pulls at Keith’s hair.

Keith hums and starts picking up the pace, other hand still tight around the base of his cock.

“You would be in your knees, like this—“ Shiro groans. “But not like this. Never like— like this. Never, _ah,_ ah good as, _as.. fuck, as this.”_ His whole body is tense, aching. He watches his cock disappear into Keith’s mouth over and over, glossy and fat. “Please,” Keith’s eyes are boring into his, conveying something. He fumbles for a few seconds, mesmerized and burning. “Let me come,” he gasps, “let me come in your mouth baby, _please—“_

And then Keith is loosening his fingers from around the base of Shiro’s cock, head bobbing quick up and down and Shiro’s orgasm slams into him.

His hand moves automatically to guide Keith as the pleasure hits him. He watches as his cock pumps into that mouth, come gushing across Keith’s tongue and into his throat. It’s sumptuous and heavy, pulsing through him as if it were endless. It’s so good, warm and tight and wet. His cock blurts out aftershocks as he comes down, and Keith lets his head be guided, slowing his sucks.

When Shiro finally stills, Keith opens his mouth and pulls back. His lips are deep red and smeared, his eyes are glazed.

It takes a moment for Shiro’s brain to come back online so he can do more than just stare stupidly.

“Keith,” the hand that was in Keith’s hair slides out and he offers it to Keith.

The other man is a little shaky getting up, but Shiro is quick to guide him up and back into his lap. It’s then he notices the large wet stain on the front of Keith’s pants.

“Did you—“

Keith drops down, face pressed to Shiro’s chest with a huff. “Yeah,” He croaks.

“Oh god, your throat!” Shiro goes to push Keith aside so he can get some water or lozenges.

“No wait,” Keith clings, using his weight to keep Shiro down. “Just, give me a second.”

Shiro would give him anything. He bands his arms around Keith’s slender waist and gives him a squeeze. “Sorry.”

Keith slaps him gently on the shoulder in chiding.

“Okay, not sorry.”

Keith hums into his throat, cuddling even closer. Shiro’s heart aches in the best kind of way, he holds Keith tight.

“Just wish I had given you a proper orgasm is all.”

This startles a half laugh half cough from Keith. “Next time,” he whispers.

Shiro kisses the top of his head. “Whatever you want. That was… just really…” he pushes out a huge breath. “Wow.”

“Really?” Keith’s turned his head a little so he can speak softly into Shiro’s ear.

“Yeah. I’ve never had an orgasm like that, baby.”

Keith kisses his neck, hand moving aimlessly over the fibers of Shiro’s shirt. It reminds Shiro they’re both still mostly dressed, sweaty, and sticky.

“So, uh,” Shiro says, stamping another kiss to Keith’s head. “Wanna join me for a shower and talk about how much we love each other?”

Keith makes another half laugh sound. “You might have to carry me.” His head comes out of Shiro’s neck and his smile is a little tired but a lot lovely.

“I can do that,” Shiro kisses his cheek, tucks hair behind one of his ears. His heart feels like it’s being compressed in his chest from just how happy, how in love with this man he is.

He can’t wait to get them in the shower and detail every little bit of it, now that he knows it’s welcome.

“But first,” he reaches around Keith and turns off the data pad where the movie had started replaying. “Now,” he scoops Keith up effortlessly and laughs as Keith squawks and clutches at his neck. “Shall we?”

Keith flicks him on the neck, but he’s smiling and his eyes are glittering like stars. Shiro carries his lover to the bathroom, a matching smile on his own face.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to write a lewd blowjob, but I guess my heart was horny too. 
> 
> on twitter as @an_aphorism


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